


where you are is where i wanna be

by silentmoons



Series: let me sing you a lullaby [1]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Kids AU!, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:01:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23958880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentmoons/pseuds/silentmoons
Summary: He's aware that Mark is saying something on the other end of the line, phone pressed to his ear, and he's aware that Jaebeom is also trying to mollify him, but, "Care to tell me again where is my child and why do you have my dog."
Relationships: Park Jinyoung/Mark Tuan
Series: let me sing you a lullaby [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737457
Comments: 18
Kudos: 65





	where you are is where i wanna be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eventidethoughts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eventidethoughts/gifts).



> Hey! I hope this is somewhat okay?

There had been nothing out of ordinary on this particular Saturday morning in early autumn: the alarm had gone off at 07:30, then at 07:35, and then again at 07:40. Jinyoung had slapped the nightstand in search for his phone, and had considered, just for a brief moment of annoyance, physically wrestling Mark out of bed for old time's sake, but had decided to quietly slip out of the bedroom instead.

Milo had been all over his legs at the sight of him, and Jinyoung had cooed a croaky _Hello, good morning_ at the dog, stopping for a cuddle before going to check on his kids. Youngjae had still been fast asleep on his bed, comforter thrown to the floor in the middle of the night, and Yugyeom had peered from his crib with puffy, expectant eyes.

So Jinyoung had done his best to start on breakfast with an armful of sleepy baby, leaving the soup to simmer on low temperature while the rice cooker hummed on the counter. By then Youngjae had dragged himself to the kitchen, tugging his Moomin comforter along, all yawns and sniffles and demanding some attention, too.

Nothing out of ordinary had happened on this particular Saturday morning. Jinyoung had unleashed a more perky Youngjae and a needy Milo onto the bed to raise Mark from his dead sleep, they had had a nice breakfast together, and Mark had done the dishes before preparing Milo for his first walk of the day. Usually, Jinyoung would go with them for a stroll in the nearby park, but drowning in deadlines had him staying home with Yugyeom this time, who was on the brink of turning one year-old and going through a clinging-koala phase where he would latch himself onto Jinyoung and shriek at any attempts of separation.

Now, staring at Jaebeom awkwardly shift from one foot to the other on their foyer, Milo already halfway through their living room, Jinyoung feels the urge to jump him and strangle him without asking for explanations. He's aware that Mark is saying something on the other end of the line, phone pressed to his ear, and he's aware that Jaebeom is also trying to mollify him, but, "Care to tell me again where is my child and why do you have my dog."

"Jinyoungie," Jaebeom pleads, pained expression on his flushed face. "You know they don't allow pets at the hospital, so Mark called me for help, and—"

" _Hyung,"_ Jinyoung threatens, not sure if Mark or Jaebeom, and hangs up the phone.

He hurries to change clothes and grab everything he needs, a distressed Jaebeom following him around the apartment with Yugyeom in arms. He knows he has serious tear works to face as soon as he puts his shoes on and Yugyeom's bottom lip wobbles. He smiles sweetly anyway, kissing Yugyeom's cheeks, and announces very softly, "I'll be back soon, baby, and I'm going to chop your daddy and your uncle Jaebeom up to pieces and have myself a delicious soup for dinner."

Mark throws his hands in the air, one of them holding Youngjae's colourful coat and scarf and knitted beanie, when he sees Jinyoung trudge towards him. "Nyoungie, he's okay, he's completely fine—"

" _Mark._ "

"You know these things happen to kids! Do you know how many bones I had already broken at the tender age of four? Babe, stop fucking pinching me, _we're adults, we have kids—_ "

Any nasty words die in Jinyoung's throat once they're taken to Youngjae. He sports a green cast on his left forearm, an Avengers bandaid on his chin and another one on his right elbow, and a bright, if a bit chapped from the autumnal cold, smile on his lips. "Look, appa! I'm just like uncle Jaebum last summer!"

Jinyoung pushes the prospect of long, fussy weeks to come to the back of his mind, gives Mark one last pinch. "Of course, my little love. Except you're a thousand times smarter," he says, stroking his hair. "And a lot more stronger."

Jaebeom, almost as much of a neat freak as Jinyoung, welcomes them home to an organized apartment, most of the chores list crossed out, a fed and well-rested Yugyeom, a happy Milo, and a table full of _japchae_ and seaweed rice balls.

"How's my favourite four year-old nephew?" He asks gently, crouching down to help Youngjae out of his coat and his black kids' Chucks, the ones he had bought months ago so they could match. Jaebeom hadn't even been good with kids before Youngjae, and Jinyoung's heart melts at his goofy best friend, at his fond eagerness.

"Silly uncle Jaebum, I'm your only four year-old nephew." Youngjae giggles.

"You sure are!"

They eat at the coffee table, TV on mute, and Mark helps Youngjae the entire time, a faint wrinkle on his brow as he watches him munch on a piece of carrot, gnawing at his own lip. Jinyoung sighs, and brushes the tip of his fingers on Mark's nape in a gesture of comfort, mouthing _It's okay_ when Mark offers him a bemused look under his eyelashes.

Later, after Jaebeom is gone and they're lazing around on the couch, basking in the warm glow of the living room lamp shade and the flickering TV and the city lights seeping through the windows, Mark turns his head to peek at Jinyoung as he blows a gentle raspberry on Yugyeom's chubby cheek.

"Hey," he says. He brings Youngjae closer, tucking him on his side, careful not to hurt him. Youngjae huffs a tiny snore. "I'm sorry."

"Hyung." Jinyoung beams, ticklish on the neck spot Yugyeom is currently nuzzling drowsily. "Accidents happen. I overreacted—"

"You didn't—"

"But we have kids now. We should probably get used to the idea of having a heart attack or two."

Mark chuckles, though Jinyoung knows the guilt is still there. They follow their night routine of Mark going for Milo's night walk, and then getting the kids ready for bed—harder now with a cast on the way, but they make it work, as they do everything else—, and both Youngjae and Yugyeom are out like a light before Jinyoung finishes reading them their bedtime story. Milo settles on the floor, between the bed and the crib, and Jinyoung mumbles a last _goodnight._

Once he has showered, turned the baby monitor they keep on the nightstand on, and killed the lights, Jinyoung buries himself under the duvet and reaches for Mark. "Hyung."

Mark hums.

"Hyung," he tries again. He tangles his fingers in Mark's hair, tugging a little, and Mark murmurs sulkily. "Don't beat yourself over it. It could just as well have happened while he was out with me."

"I was so worried," Mark mutters. "I was so worried, Jinyoungie."

"Well, I should hope so," says Jinyoung, so very, very soft. "You're his dad. _I_ would worry if you never worried over our son."

"Our son," Mark repeats, a hint of a smile on his voice. "Remember the day we got him? We were so freaked out. We thought we couldn't do this."

Jinyoung chortles, fingers now pressing against Mark's jaw to usher him closer. "I remember. Do you still think we can't do this?"

"Hell no. I want to do this right here with you. For the rest of my life. A heart attack or two and all."

"I love you." Jinyoung exhales, pressing his fingers with more purpose, more intent.

"I love you, Jinyoungie," Mark whispers, and leans in for a kiss.


End file.
